


Falling Through Your Window (And Into Your Arms)

by HK44



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: :D, AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Secret Relationship, Secrets, Trans Damian, Trans Male Character, bruce is overprotective, damian is older, trans!damian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HK44/pseuds/HK44
Summary: When Duke decided to ask Robin out, he didn't really think it would spew so many complications into his life. To be fair, he wasn't really expecting Robin to be Damian Wayne either but still.





	Falling Through Your Window (And Into Your Arms)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic exists in an AU where the Robin War didn’t happen, Damian is three years older than in canon and didn’t meet Bruce/join the batfam until he was 13 and Duke was never told Batman’s true identity/never figured it out after his parents were taken by the Joker. In this AU, Duke’s parents were caught by authorities after Bruce rescued Duke and are currently stuck in a psychiatric ward while a cure is being developed to help heal them and others afflicted by the same venom.
> 
> As I’ve said before, I’m not entirely too familiar with DC. I’ve literally only read two issues (R:SoB and Court of Owls) and watched four movies (SoB, BvR, B:BB and JL vs TT) so most of how I write the characters is how I’ve picked them up from the fandom, the media I’ve consumed and my personal thoughts. I say this because I’ve literally never read or seen anything with Duke so I’ve struggled with his character and the fandom isn’t all that brazen about him since he’s relatively new. I did look up his backstory and talk to a couple people I knew who’ve read him. They did tell me that given his newness, it was okay to write him how I would perceive him once I understood his background a bit. Understanding that, please note that he may differ slightly (or a lot from canon). Either way, I do hope all of you who read the fic do like my take on him.
> 
> I really enjoy Duke from what I've seen of him in fandom.

Duke couldn’t tell you how he wound up like this if he tried.

Honestly, his biggest fear at this point was getting caught by the Robinson’s because he _knew_ he wouldn’t be able to explain what he was doing making out with a _vigilante_ at three in the morning on a school night. And Lord knew Mrs. Robinson wasn’t gonna let _that_ slide.

“Hey,” he hissed, squirming out from the pretty boy’s tight grasp. His hand went to his neck. Robin smirked at him, delicate. Dangerous.

_Gorgeous._

Duke’s stomach lurched.

“I said no marks,” he muttered.

“Did you?” Robin sighed. “Must not have heard.”

“You fucking liar,” Duke grumbled but he went back. He _always_ did. Honestly, he was starting to get a thing for thigh high boots and masked eyes. “Don’t bite me, ya damn vampire.”

Robin smirked, loud and wide before surging back down to catch Duke’s mouth with his own and once again, Duke was caught between falling into it and rolling the vigilante out of his bed and out his window before Mrs. Robinson caught him.

There were five things Duke had figured out about Robin, sidekick to the elusive Batman. One, he really, _really_ had a thing for bites. Being bitten and getting bit, either one was good. Two, he was trans. It’d been a weird day to begin with, what with hot dogs raining from the sky and Superman coming in to help out with Gotham’s villain-of-the-month. It’d only gotten weirder when Robin had fallen from the roof and caught himself on Duke’s fire escape.

Duke, being a good decent person, had dragged Robin’s half-dead body into his room and fixed him up despite the superhero swatting at him and calling him insolent. He’d hadn’t really considered that, well, maybe Robin had other secrets to hide from the Gotham population _besides_ his face.

After a promise to never say a thing and Duke quickly pointing out that if he’d planned on saying anything _about_ Robin, he obviously would’ve removed his mask and not his shirt, Robin relented. Then attacked him with his mouth in a way that Duke very much appreciated. And suddenly not wearing his mask was no longer an issue.

Which pleasantly led into point three: Robin was excruciatingly _hot_. Like holy fucking _damn_. The boy had abs on abs on abs and the cutest button nose ever, though, Duke was smart enough to never say anything like that to his face. And his _eyes._

Duke was sure there wasn’t anything _greener_ in the world. No emerald, no jade, no forest could match them.

Four, he was ridiculously good at kissing for a person Duke was confident had never been in a relationship, if Robin’s occasional under-the-breath mumbles and overly demanding yet annoyingly cautious touches were anything to go by.

Five.

He was the _actual_ son of Batman.

“Father,” Robin hissed, yanking back and pushing a hand to the side of his mask, pulling it awkwardly across his face from where it hung. He winced at whoever was yelling at him, their voice garbled and low. Duke smirked. Payback time. “I was just-”

Duke dragged his teeth along Robin’s neck. He groaned, gripping Duke’s shoulder but not pushing him away.

“I’m fine,” Robin snapped. “I was sitting down and my legs were sore. I don’t need help.” His green, green eyes met Duke’s, the peel of the mask falling below his face once more. “I’ll be at the Cave in twenty minutes.”

Without a second thought, he threw off the mask and surged forward against. Duke laughed low into his mouth.

“Gonna get me caught,” Robin gasped, wringing his arms around Duke’s neck.

“So are you,” Duke hummed happily, squeezing at Robin’s sides. “Besides what do you have to worry for? You’re _Robin_. Rules of secret midnight smooches don’t apply.”

Snorting, Robin bit just at the juncture of Duke’s neck and collarbone, bouncing out of reach before Duke could slap him. He grinned dark and dangerous again. Collecting his mask, gloves and hood from the floor, he slung himself out of the window.

Like some kind of hopeless damsel, Duke draped himself along the windowsill. He watched Robin tug on his gloves. “So you on patrol tomorrow?”

For a few minutes, Robin’s teeth worried at the edge of his mouth. “No,” he finally bit out. It was accented with the snap of his gloves. He scratched his nose. “Night off.”

Duke sighed. “Ya know, if you told me who you were, I could just take you out to dinner or something.” Robin gave him a look. Duke shrugged. “Not that this isn’t fun but what happens when I get serious with someone and can’t open my window to you anymore.” He dragged his finger across the dip of the sill. Dirt and dust clung to his skin like Robin’s thin-ass tights clung to his damned legs. “Would be easier if I was just serious with you.”

“-I” Robin winced again, hand to his ear and frowning. Duke kind of wanted to slap Batman right now. Yeah, the guy saved him and all but it’d been three weeks of pure courage just even _thinking_ of this, thinking of asking _this_ , figuring out how to suggest it, and Batman was sorta stamping on his goddamn parade right now. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming now!” Robin sucked his teeth and scowled. “At the corner of Budge and Broadway.” He scuffed his feet. “Got it.”

When Robin’s hand dropped to his utility belt, Duke smirked. “What, you embarrassed by me or something? Budge and Broadway is ten minutes away.”

“Knowing you, you’d tell them about what we do,” Robin huffed but he didn’t sound too annoyed by it. Duke smirked. “Besides, Nightwing would badger me about why I was out of the designated patrol area anyway.”

Duke nodded. “So about what I was say-”

“We’ll have to discuss that later,” Robin said and Duke nodded again, a little looser, more morose. He ducked away, went to go close the window when Robin hissed, “Wait.”

“Wha- _Mph._ ”

Robin was kissing him again. Harsh, needy. He pulled back, panting slight and leaving Duke _breathless_. “I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Duke’s eyes fluttered. “Thought you had the night off?”

Robin ducked back from under the window and smirked, delicate. Dangerous.

_Gorgeous._

“I do.”

\--

“So whatcha doing out this far anyway?” Grayson laughed. “You’re normally home by the time Bruce calls us off.”

Damian shrugged and tried to hide his pleasant thoughts under a thin scowl. “That’s not any of your business, Grayson.”

Grayson chuckled. “Okay. Is it a girl?” Damian scowled deeper and sunk into his seat. “ _Booooy_?”

“Grayson-”

“Oh, c’mon, little D,” Grayson chuckled. The batmobile revved under his eager footing. “I used to sneak off patrol _all_ the time to see Babs when she couldn’t get out to hang with us. You can trust me. I won’t tell Bruce. Who is it? Colin? Timbers? _Cass_?”

“I was walking around,” Damian bit off, squirming. “Now shut up and drive.”

“Oh! I loved that song,” Grayson hissed eagerly. His finger stabbed at the CD player. Music blared around them. “Shut up and drive, drive, drive.”

He kept up the out-of-tune singing the whole way home and Damian was almost tempted to tell him what he wanted just to get him to _shut up_. But those nights with Duke were a secret. Private.

 _His_.

He wasn’t going to give that up just for the sake of his ears. The moment he said anything about anything, the moment any of them found out that Duke had _seen_ him, they’d wildly panic. Grayson would surely and quickly tell Bruce that someone, a stranger no less, knew who Damian was, could pick him out of a crowd. Father would… would _do something_.

And Damian risked not seeing Duke.

Not seeing _Duke_.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Duke was warm. Caring. Ever since Damian toppled off his roof and onto his fire escape. Ever since he’d pulled Damian’s bleeding and pained body into his bedroom and gave him minor first aid to verify for the lack of a concussion.

Father knew _everything_.

And that made Damian want some secrets. He was content to keep Duke one, even if it meant risking himself.

His lips still tingled with the deep warmth of Duke’s. He always tasted of sweet mint and honey. Damian wondered if that was a concoction of Duke’s own making, something to help him relax for the night, or if the taste came from whatever the wrappers scattered freely on his desk had once contained.

Sometimes he thought too deeply about what it could be. A flavourful piece of gum someone he interacted with daily always had on their person, handing out to people as they passed by, or maybe Duke had a fixation of the oral kind, needing the sweet taste and hard crunch of a lollipop while he studied, swirling it around his mouth and grazing the sides with his tongue, slow and heavy, while he struggled through a difficult question.

It was those kinds of thoughts that generally led to Damian locking his door and blaring loud symphonies on repeat.

As they pulled up into the Cave’s driveway, Grayson paused the car and leaned back, his foot steady on the brakes. “So, really, Dames? What are you doing when you vanish like that?”

Damian glanced at Grayson then back out in front of him. “Nothing you need to worry about, Grayson.”

Grayson sighed. “Damian, Bruce is _kind of_ worrying over you in the only way Bruce knows how, okay? I’m not gonna push you but-” He moved his foot off the brakes and continued puttering towards the Cave. “-if it’s nothing terrible, you don’t need to hide it.”

Damian resisted the urge to scowl.

What did _Grayson_ know?

Damian had been a terror from the moment Mother had unceremoniously dumped him on them and it had taken all of Grayson’s efforts and _being dead_ for nearly half a year to finally get him to cool off in a way people mildly approved of. And even then it wasn’t enough.

It didn’t matter how mild the situation was. Father had nearly snapped when Damian revealed his friendship with Colin. He didn’t trust any decision Damian made and he hadn’t calmed down about Colin until the boy vanished off with Maya, who Father had been equally wary about ever since she “kidnapped” Damian.

It’d been a day at the fair.

Damian had seen no need to inform Father about it, especially given he’d mentioned it in passing to Pennyworth and Grayson and _especially_ since Drake never seemed to let anyone know his plans with his lackeys unless he’d be gone for a prescribed amount of time.

The only friend Damian had that Father approved of was Jon and being friends with a ten year old when he was sixteen was… _weird_. Even for Damian. He wasn’t sure how to construct his behaviour in a mentor but friend type of way. He wasn’t even sure how to maintain an appropriate stance around Jon, or even if anything about him was appropriate for _Superman’s son_. And Jon lived miles away anyway, busy with his own powers and his own life.

They only knew each other because of Father and that was how Father preferred Damian’s interactions with other people. Through him. By him. With him hovering closeby in the shadows to observe and make sure that anything that happened, happened in the way he approved of.

So _what_ did Grayson know about not needing to hide things?

Damian stepped out of the car.

Still clad in his gear, Father was surveying the city’s cameras. His face was wane, weary with sleepless nights. A budding bruise bloomed under his left eye, shining light in the streak of blue that gleered down from the screens.

He hit a button.

“Your tracker went off again, Damian,” he said.

“Must still be malfunctioning,” Damian replied nonchalantly. He dropped his cape over the back of a chair and hopped out of his boots.

Father hummed, his eyes narrowing. Still, he didn’t look at Damian. “Remind me to fix it before your next patrol then.”

Damian peeled out of his tights. “Yes, Father.”

Pennyworth laid out a pair of shorts beside Damian before strolling over to Grayson, who’d already stripped out of his suit, and handing him a folded pile of clothing. Folding his suit up and leaving it on the countertop, Damian slipped into his shorts and grabbed Alfred up by the scruff of his neck. The cat blinked wearily at him.

Damian stroked his fingertips against the top of his head. Slowly, he closed his eyes, exhaling in time with the soft, short breaths of the cat.

Finally, he started his trek towards his room, ready to turn in.

“Damian?”

He froze, a foot away from the door. Keeping his voice steady, he glanced back at Father. The man’s gaze was steeled on him now. “Yes?”

“Is there anything you need to tell me?” Father asked, voice pleasant, words soft, as though he was just curious about the going-ons in Damian’s life.

Duke flashed to the forefront of Damian’s mind, along with the begging texts from Colin and Maya to join them in their adventures around Peru. Switfly though, Duke took up the most space, his warm eyes, dark brown skin and muscled arms dancing around Damian’s thoughts. The way his hands gripped Damian’s side.

His mouth.

Damian shook his head, stroking along Alfred’s back. “No.” He smiled, halfway pleasant, and scratched behind Alfred’s ear. “There’s nothing.”

\--

To be fair, Duke really wasn’t expecting Robin to show up at his windowsill that night. It seemed like a pipe dream the next morning anyway. Robin? The masked sidekick to Batman was really going to just show up at his doorstep, in casual clothing and not his skintight costume, and tell Duke his real identity just because he’d spent the last six months kissing him and now wanted _more_.

Right.

Of course, that was going to happen.

He walked into his bedroom, just about to chuck his backpack on his bed when he caught sight of his open window. A boy stood there, crouched on the fire escape. He was dressed up in a casual suit and tie combo, black hair pushed back, slicked by the rain outside. He had dark skin, wicked green eyes and the cutest button nose Duke had ever seen.

Duke dropped his bag.

“Robin?” he whispered.

The boy nodded and for two whole seconds, Duke was sure his heart had stopped beating.

Robin cleared his throat and stepped inside. “Uh, I got flowers,” he said, shoving the bouquet out at Duke.

Duke grinned, loose and please. Flowers. Flowers were good. Boyfriends got their boyfriends flowers. This was- This was a good sign. “Thanks,” Duke said, taking them. He let them brush over his face, the petals soft and smooth. “They’re great.”

Robin blushed lightly, the flush to his cheeks nearly hidden in the low light and shadows. Ducking his head, he looked up at Duke from under his lashes. “I had hoped you’d like them.”

He sounded so tentative and nervous, which wasn’t like him. Made Duke want to wrap him into a tight hug and kiss the everlasting life out of him. Just until that cocky, biting version of him had snapped back anyway.

Duke nodded rapidly. “I do,” he said, softly. He shook his head and repeated more firmly, “I do.” He grinned wide. “So. You came back.”

Robin fiddled with his fingers, looking down. “I did.”

He seemed familiar. Like Duke had seen him somewhere before. But it was hard to pinpoint his face. In the early nights, Duke could’ve sworn he’d recognized Robin’s voice before but no matter how hard he wracked his brain, he could never figure it out. After a while, he stopped caring.

Robin cleared his throat again. “As I promised last night, I came back.” He coughed, shifting his feet. Inhaline deeply, he let out a short sigh and caught Duke’s eyes. “My name is Damian Wayne,” Robin said patiently.

Duke stared at him.

Damian Wayne.

Bruce Wayne’s son.

Damian Wayne was Robin.

Robin was Batman’s son.

 _Bruce Wayne was Batman_.

Duke blinked a couple times. His mind reeled with quiet shock and then-

“Bruce Wayne is Batman?” he whispered and Damian snorted.

“Yes.” Damian fiddled with his fingers. “He is.”

“I knew the butts matched,” Duke muttered.

Damian arched an eyebrow. “What?”

Duke shook his head, burying half his face into his flowers while he thought about his twelve year old nerd self on those WHO IS BATMAN threads. “Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Damian smirked. “Perhaps my butt is the one you should be focusing on.”

Duke choked on a laugh, ducking his face out of his flowers. “Smooth.”

“Yes, I thought so too,” Damian agreed, finally bounding over from the window and capturing Duke’s mouth for his own.

Duke grinned, laughing into Damian’s mouth before pulling away. “Lemme find something to put these in.”

Damian smiled and settled down on the edge of the bed. Duke laid out the flowers on his desk. He stepped out in the hallway, thoughts whirling like a tornado in his mind.

Damian _Wayne_.

 _Wayne_.

Somehow Duke Thomas, born from nothing and _owning_ nothing, had managed to snag one of Gotham’s elitist children.

What in the world was his life?

He opened the hallway closet door, pushing past the brooms and cleaning supplies. Pressed to the very back were a box of vases. He snagged the cleanest one to the front and shifted over to the bathroom. Hiking the vase under the sink, he watch the water flow inside, capturing the barest bits of dust around it, turning the water flowing inside a murky and dim gray.

Damian wanted to date him.

 _Damian Wayne_.

For a second and a half, he wondered if it was all a joke. A ploy. Another trick in a long line of tortured moments in Duke’s small little life. His parents flashed to the front of his mind, his mom’s waned face and screaming eyes, the way his dad tried to strangle him.

Jokes.

Water trickled over his hand. He exhaled sharply and pulled back, turning off the water and pressing his forehead to the cool glass of the mirror in front of him.

Damian was Robin.

Robin was a good guy. Even when he had that weird spell of attempted murders after the fifth costume change, he was still a _good_ person.

Duke closed his eyes and breathed.

After a few moments, he pulled away from the mirror and walked back to his room.

“I won’t be able to stay too long,” Damian said the moment Duke came back, the door easing shut behind him. “Father doesn’t know I’m out.”

Duke raised an eyebrow as he put his flowers in the vase. He settled the vase in the corner of his desk “Why not?”

“He’d ask questions,” Damian said. He rubbed his hands on his pantlegs, frowning. “I prefer it when Father doesn’t ask questions.”

“So I guess you don’t tell him things often?”

“Only when the situation deems it best,” Damian said, loftily. He dipped back and let Duke clamber on top of him. His eyes, darkly worried before, softened and relaxed as Duke caught his hands and pinned them above his head.

Damian had such _nice_ eyes.

“Yeah?” Duke hummed. “And this situation?”

“Deems it best,” Damian murmured.

Duke grinned and caught his mouth, releasing Damian’s hands. Damian’s tongue swept against his bottom lip, needy. His arms loped around Duke’s neck, pulling him in close. Duke groaned. Damian smirked against his mouth, tightening his grip and swinging Duke over so he was on top and Duke was at his mercy.

Duke really enjoyed this version of being at someone’s mercy.

“We should go out,” Damian said, tracing his thumb over Duke’s bottom lip.

Duke blinked. “Like a date?”

“Precisely.” Damian shifted off of him and slid over to the window. “Meet me downstairs.” He smirked. “I’ll give you a few minutes to calm yourself down.”

Duke threw a pillow at him and scowled at the laughter that followed as Damian dodged the pillow and slipped out of the window.

\--

“You were an assassin?” Duke laughed and Damian nodded solemnly. Suddenly, Robin’s initial streams of attempted murders three years back made so much more sense.

“I’m not anymore,” he assured quickly.

Duke grinned. “I figured. Batman’s very big on the not-killing thing.” He pressed his sandwich to his mouth but staved off a moment to ask, “Was it hard getting used to that?”

Damian screwed up his face. “It was… a _struggle_ ,” he admitted, swirling his spoon around his bowl of soup. “I had a lot to learn about-” He scowled deeper, venom thickening on the words. “-patience and… _understanding_.”

Patience and understanding didn’t seem all that horrible to Duke but Damian made them sound like they were concepts of pure evil. While he chewed, Duke eyed Damian. His face was half slashed in annoyance, half curled in resignation. “You don’t like it,” he surmised after a swallow and Damian winced.

“I-”

“You still want to kill people,” Duke murmured. An uneasy curl of tension snaked inside him.

Damian swallowed. “I don’t _agree_ … that death is as abhorrent as Father says, especially in certain cases where the punishment of death seems fitting. Todd-” Damian stopped sharply, exhaling deeply and staring down at his plate, eyes hooded and gaze guarded. Duke wondered how many times he’d begun this argument, in his head or out loud, only to fizzle out and be told the same thing over and over again by a voice that likely sounded too much like Batman. Damian fiddled with the fork laid by his side, dragging his thumb across the tines. Duke reached over to squeeze his hand reassuringly.

“I don’t _totally_ mind your murderous inclinations,” he teased. “Just not anyone who doesn’t deserve it.

Damian eyed him warily. “You don’t… mind. That I’d like to _kill_ the people we fight.”

“Look,” Duke started, shifting around the booth to get closer to Damian so he could hush his voice low, “is it ideal? No, not really. It’s not. But-” Duke cocked his head and smiled gently. “-the fact that we have costumed crusaders running around Gotham 24/7 pretty much means that we’re living outside the ideal anyway.” Duke held Damian’s hand under the table and watched his fingers as he swept his thumb over top of them. “We had to do a debate a couple months ago. Everyone called out for Batman because, ya know-” Duke shrugged. “-he’s Batman, and we settled on debating whether or not his method of capture and imprisonment worked because that’s always up for argue anyway, so there was a lot we could research and stuff.

“I was for it because it made sense to me but I realized it doesn’t always _work_.” Duke squeezed Damian’s hand and dropped it, looking at him. “I’ve seen the stats, I’ve read reports and I know that about seventy-five percent of the time, they escape Arkham or prison or wherever they wind up. For _whatever_ reason. And whenever they do, bad things happen, worse then when they were just starting out, so…” He sucked his bottom lip into his mouth for a moment and then sighed. “It’s not ideal. It really isn’t. But so is the fact that they do this kind of shit in the first place.” Sick, sardonic laughter broke open in the back of his mind. He licked his lips. “So I mind. But not really. Just.” He laughed into Damian’s hair. “Don’t come home to me covered in blood or anything and really, _really_ make sure you got the right guy.”

Damian nodded gently and murmured, “Thank you”, brushing a soft kiss against Duke’s cheek. The touch was gentle, brief and grazing. Duke shivered into it.

Damian smiled, wicked, and cuddled into Duke’s chest. Duke slung his arm around him and pulled him in tight, kissing his cheek.

This was nice.

“What’s your family like?” Damian murmured.

Duke smiled. His mom’s wide smile and booming laugh bustled through his mind. “Oh, they’re great.” His grin fell ruefully. Large hands and a vengeful stare sprouted into the back of his mind. “Some things happened to them but… they’re- they’re getting help.”

Damian nodded. He shifted up and looked Duke in the eyes. “When Father brought me back to life, I did go over his and the other’s reports from after I died. To- to catch up on what I’d missed.” He wrung his wrists. “I read about what happened to them. I am very sorry you had to go through that.”

Duke squeezed Damian’s hands. He never knew what to say when people apologized to him for that but unlike other people, who always seemed to wait for a response, wanting to know their words _helped_ even when they didn’t, Damian just smiled gently and brought Duke’s hand up to kiss the side of his thumb. Duke laughed lightly then paused, the rest of Damian’s statement sinking in. “Wait, you _died_?”

Damian paused like he realized that _maybe_ he shouldn’t have mentioned that. “Um.” His eyes darted to the side suspiciously. “ _No.”_

“Damian!”

He winced. “It’s not like I’m _still_ dead and it wasn’t that long anyway. Todd was gone for five years before he came back. I was gone nine months.” He waved Duke’s sputtering questions off. “Anyway, it’s my turn to ask questions, is it not?”

Duke snorted. “Okay. But let’s go back to the having _died_ thing later.”

“If we must,” Damian huffed but he seemed fine with it. “What do you plan on doing with your life?”

“That’s direct,” Duke teased because Damian was anything but indirect. The boy had oozed a demanding honesty and scowling candor ever since he called Duke out on being attracted to him and then straight-out asked him if he wanted to make out before Damian got called off patrol. Briefly, Duke wondered if that was because he was raised as an assassin for so long or if it was just how Damian was. Duke shrugged. “I dunno. I’m thinking about going into history or literature, maybe? But I’ll just take time off and work first.”

Damian eyed him. “Where have you considered employment?”

“Uh, my mom’s old firm gives me a summer job every year,” Duke said. “I mostly do the filing and help them out with their crosswords.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Well enough, yeah. A lot of them remember me from when I was a baby. My mom took me into work a lot because she couldn’t afford a babysitter _and_ law school and my dad bargained that the latter was more important in the grand scheme of things.” Duke couldn’t remember that far back but he did remember when he was a toddler, flashing images hustling through his head of familiar people cooing down at him and his mom apologizing because school was out and they couldn’t get him into a daycare or summer camp yet.

It was fine for the most part. Mrs. Hudson, his mom’s boss, had three kids and was sympathetic to his mom’s struggles to put herself through school while still providing an income and taking care of Duke. When he was old enough to talk and walk, they’d give him small tasks to do until he’d tired himself out and napped on Mrs. Hudson’s couch.

Everyone had been very proud of his mom for doing so much and still trying to get her degree.

“Have you considered going into law then?” Damian said, snapping Duke’s out of his morbid-growing thoughts.

“I have,” he admitted. “But the time and cost seem…” He trailed off, wincing internally.

“Daunting,” Damian filled in. His face remained passive, like he didn’t care or mind that Duke wanted to do something shorter and simpler with his time. Other people, guidance counselors and the like, would frown and call Duke “a man of many aptitudes”, remarking their disappointment that he didn’t want to follow in his mom’s footsteps or even his father’s mild work in politics before he got laid-off. Even some of his friends would frown when he talked about gap years and taking a break before getting into anything serious.

Damian didn’t.

Pushing that to the back of his mind, Duke nodded. “Besides, law doesn’t interest me as much. I don’t plan on leaving Gotham any time soon and clearly-” He sent Damian a look. “-it doesn’t work very well.”

Damian rolled his eyes, but a thin smirk played on the edge of his lips. “It does its best,” he murmured, linking his free hand with Duke’s.

Duke shivered and squeezed Damian’s hand tight. “What about you? Or is kicking criminals your end goal?”

Damian rolled his eyes, pressing his thumb hard to the back of Duke’s hand, warning but softly so. Slightly agitated, he sucked his teeth. Finally, he sat back and sighed. “I’ll be following in Father and Drake’s footsteps most likely. I already have several degrees, so it seems rather pointless to go back for another one but.” He frowned, face scrunched and eyes squinting irritated. “Grayson suggests… that university would be a good place to develop… skills that he believes I lack.”

“He wants you to make friends?” Duke teased.

Damian’s face dropped as his mouth drew down into a scowl. “I already have friends,” he grumbled. “And I’m quite settled with them for now. I don’t _need_ more. Especially not hormonal morons who will no doubt keep me awake at night with their incessant partying.”

Duke snorted. “Okay, how much of your understanding of college comes from crap TV?” Damian scowled further but the tips of his ears flushed a dark red and he squirmed, annoyed. Duke laughed low and pressed his mouth to the curve of Damian’s ear. “It’ll be better than that. Plus-” He grabbed Damian’s spoon and swirled it around his coffee before bringing it to his mouth. “-additional knowledge is always good.” He sucked the spoon into his mouth and grinned around it.

For a moment, he was caught off-guard by how wanting Damian’s face turned. Eyes usually obscured by his mask or the darkness of Duke’s room, he’d never noticed how they bore at him, desperate and craving. Duke swallowed thickly and let the spoon fall to his own plate, clattering against his cup.

Damian kept staring at him. His eyes searched for something in Duke’s. His hand jumped in Duke’s hand and that was the only warning Duke had before Damian’s free hand clasped the back of his neck and pulled him down.

His mouth tasted like chocolate and peppermint and the orange extract he’d loudly requested they include in it.

Duke couldn’t get enough.

Damian’s fingers dug in the back of his neck and pulled him closer. Duke bent lower, trying to tug him into his lap and get his arm around Damian’s waist when Damian pulled back, pupils dilated wide, face half-flushed and chest heaving.

His eyes sluck downward and he slipped back to the other side, frowning. Duke exhaled slowly, collecting himself. Damian did the same, body twitching.

In his mind, Duke’s thoughts were reeling. He tried not to think about the stares they probably earned, tried not to worry that someone recognized Damian from some news article and just tried to breathe.

“You-” Duke started, eyes hardening on Damian’s downward gaze. Damian stopped, arms dropping to his side. He sighed slowly, breaths exhaling out of him like a dream. A smile quirked over the edge of his mouth. “You do things to me,” he finished, voice quiet.

Duke smiled low. His fingertips tingled. “Are they good things?”

Damian’s eyes cut to his face. They were soft, soft _green_. He was quiet for a minute, thinking. Finally, he pulled out his wallet and peeled a twenty from it. As he stood, hand outstretched to Duke’s, he said, “If they weren’t, you wouldn’t be you.”

Duke took his hand and smiled.

They walked out of the café, hand-in-hand and pressed shoulder to mid-bicep. Feeling like a lovesick ten year old, Duke couldn’t stop grinning no matter how hard he tried. Damian was lucky he was so tiny, his face directed down from the harsh winds.

Suddenly, Damian swung around, caught Duke and shoved him into an empty alleyway, up against the wall beside a dumpster. Duke groaned as his head into the brick but it all faded out pretty lightly once Damian smirked up at him.

“Seriously?” Duke grumbled. The sound edged with light laughter. Damian shrugged, keeping Duke pinned with one hand. Duke tried to move but it was difficult. He frowned. “Damian, let up.”

Damian relaxed his hand slightly without moving it from Duke’s chest. For a brief second, he seemed to be listening for something. The collar of his shirt was twisted out of place, the uppermost button popped and a peek of skin flashing in the lowlight. Damian blinked and reared up into Duke’s chest. His mouth crashed against Duke’s a messy bash of teeth and gums.

Duke groaned, feeling his head hit the wall again. Still, he locked an arm around Damian’s waist and kissed back. Damian strained in his arms, struggling to stay upright and on his toes but keep Duke pinned at the same time. Duke tugged him into his arms, shifting away from the wall just enough for Damian to wrap his legs around him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he swore as Damian bit at the junction of his throat and collarbone. “Da-”

Several feet away a figure landed, heavy, onto the ground. Duke jerked, panic fluttering his throat. Damian stiffened, keeping his head buried in the crook of Duke’s throat. He shoved one hand down Duke’s pants, breathing deep as he curled his hand into a fist against Duke’s thigh and moaned breathily, voice pitched high and _different_.

Duke was too busy trying to figure out who, or what, the figure was and wondering why the world _hated_ him to care.

“Um-”

“You shouldn’t be out this late,” the voice cut across him.

Chills spiraled down Duke’s back.

That’s what Damian had been listening for.

Batman.

His father.

“The Riddler’s been wreaking havoc in this area lately,” Batman went on. He didn’t budge from the shadows he’d immersed himself in. “It’s not safe to be out this late. Besides-” His voice cut partially amused. “-it’s a school night.”

“Right,” Duke said, feeling choked. “Yeah, okay. We’ll go.” Batman didn’t move. Duke swallowed thickly and glanced down at Damian whose breath was burning ragged in Duke’s ear. “Babe?”

Slowly Damian detached himself from Duke, feet landing with a soft _pwsh_ against the rocky alleyway. He didn’t move around, keeping himself and his face tucked into Duke’s side. His voice, muffled and hard to make out, was aggressive, like normal, but _off_. Like it wasn’t him talking. “We can get home on our own.”

Batman was quiet. Then, “Of course. But I’d suggest you hurry along.”

Duke nodded rapidly and shifted out of the alleyway, leaving Batman and all his fears behind him. A thousand and one things he’d wanted to yell at the man before, wanted to say if he ever saw him face-to-mask again and yet…

He glanced down at Damian who was still hiding against him and just hurried on faster.

Once they were out of earshot, or _hopefully_ out of earshot ‘cause who knew with Batman, Duke let Damian slither out of his grasp. His expression was pinched, annoyed. “I didn’t think he’d come down,” he grumbled, crossing his arms. He sounded like himself again.

Duke glanced behind himself for a hot second before looking back to Damian. “Do you want to go?”

Damian licked his lips. He ran his hand through his hair, flustered. “I don’t want to but-” He sighed and dropped his hand to his side. “I should.” They stopped just before Duke’s building. Damian reached out and collected Duke’s hand in both of his, smoothing his thumbs over the back of Duke’s hand. He smiled low. “I had fun.”

Duke grinned and pressed his free hand to Damian’s cheek. “Me too.”

He tugged Damian close to him and kissed the top of his head. Damian snorted and tilted his face up, catching Duke’s lips in a fleeting and brushing kiss. Duke hummed pleasantly as he pulled away. “Text me, okay?”

“Of course,” Damian said as he backed away. His hands pushed into the pockets of his jacket. Like his father before him, the shadows crept around him, brushing him into bleak darkness. “I’ll see you another night,” he promised before he vanished completely from sight.

Duke grinned and walked home. His body felt buzzed, his mind replaying the night over and over again, like the favourite episode of a decent sitcom.

It wasn’t like he’d never dated or been infatuated with someone before. But Damian was wildly different from all the boys Duke had liked before.

Even if it didn’t last, Duke knew, _really_ knew, that it wouldn’t matter. They’d still get along, still make snide and chiding remarks at each other and still _talk_.

They’d still be friends.

They’d still like each other.

No doubt, he’d still be thinking of Damian’s eyes and ruthless smile full of bared teeth even years down the road.

“How was your night?” Mrs. Robinson asked from the sofa. She glanced over at him, eyes rolling down his form, falling perilously long around his neck.

Instinctively, Duke pressed his hand to the spot Damian had bitten and laughed loosely. “Uh, it was good.”

“It’d seem _so_ ,” Mr. Robinson said, smirking over the rim of his glasses.

Mrs. Robinson slapped his arm playfully with the newspaper. Settling back against the sofa, she nodded at Duke. “Well, you keep safe dear. And if it gets a little too serious, let me know.” She spread open the paper in her lap, voice turned half-amused. “I have a rather large book I’ve been wanting to use for a while now.”

Duke grimaced, darting off before they could tease him any further.

The nice thing about Mrs. And Mr. Robinson, the thing that made them better foster parents than most of the others, were that they were fairly elderly and didn’t care. As long as Duke followed their rules, they didn’t mind what he did or who he did anything with as long as he was being safe about it and following the guidelines they listed. He was pretty sure out of the nine months he’d been staying with them, they’d only met Tracy out of all his friends.

Granted, that did make him feel crappy about sneaking Damian into his room at least three nights a week but he was being safe about it and Damian was a special case.

Throwing his jacket across his chair, he threw himself out onto the bed.

A special case indeed.

He’d never mentioned Damian to his friends. It was difficult. Damian Wayne.

Damian _Wayne_.

And they had to keep their relationship a secret according to Damian. No one was supposed to _know_. And it’d made sense when was Damian wasn’t Damian and he was just Robin but now…

Duke rolled over and splayed his hands over his stomach as he kicked off his shoes.

Now, it was different. Damian was Damian.

Wayne.

 _Wayne_.

Damian Wayne who had clear issues with his dad and the limelight of being a child of Bruce.

Duke covered his face with his hands.

A child of _Batman_.

It wasn’t just secret kissing in the middle of the night, hands fumbling around for whatever they could touch, but dating and kissing and going to cafes together and the movies and… and-

Duke wriggled out of his shirt.

And falling in love.

As he landed back down on his bed, he squeezed his eyes shut. He could see himself falling in love with Damian and crashlanding hard. And without even trying, he could see Damian going the same way and that was…

 _Weird_.

If they hung around each other publicly, if they made out on street corners and in tiny cafes and went to the movies and were _boyfriends_ , then what would Duke’s life even become? He’d seen TV shows, movies and real-life events where people were strung apart because the non-famous couldn’t handle the life of the famous and he didn’t want that to happen to them.

It wasn’t like Damian was a public person, like his dad or his brothers or his sister. It still took people time to recognize him, he hid so deep in their shadows, angry eyes and barred teeth at anyone who disturbed his privacy. He was known but just in a name, just in the presence of others. But… that didn’t mean someone _wouldn’t_ recognize him eventually. He was still pushed into the limelight enough that someone in Gotham, someone who _cared_ enough about Bruce Wayne’s large scattering of children, would notice. Someone would say something and suddenly it wouldn’t just be Damian shed in the limelight when he didn’t want it, but Duke too.

And Duke wasn’t made for the limelight. It was bad enough people judged him from the moment they saw him. It was bad enough he had to determine the way he acted at every step, every moment, every second of interacting with people and just _being_ but…

But the limelight?

Having people judge him and his worthiness of Damian and his beautiful eyes and adorable nose?

He didn’t need that more than he’d already get it just from holding his hand and walking down the street.

And Batman.  Bruce. God, what would he think? The guy never seemed like an uptight person but Duke didn’t know him personally and all he’d ever met or had a lingering conversation with was the persona of him that punched crime in the face every night and let his mom and his dad get tortured to the point of breaking into insanity and gassed to throw them over that edge.

And what did Batman do then?

He’d left Duke to his own devices.

Duke grabbed his phone and fiddled with it in his palm, not tapping it awake just yet but thinking.

Maintaining the secret wouldn’t be hard. He’d already been doing it.

He closed his eyes and tapped the screen. It burst open into bright blue light against his eyelids.

What was a few more weeks?

**\--**

Damian parked his bike inside the garage. Quietly he slipped outside and pulled the door down shut. Easing into the lawn and darting across to his side of the window, he heaved himself up the tree, grabbing branches and pulling himself up high. He threw himself over to the roof, landing on the dullest part of the fixture.

Years before Grayson had covered a section of the roof in soft material so he could lay out atop it in the sunnier days without getting roasted from the rooftop tiles.

In Damian’s opinion, it was one of the smarter things Grayson has stupidly done in his youth. Quietly he slipped to the edge of the roof and heaved himself over until he was tiptoeing the edge and slid alongside it until he was above his own room.

Before, when he’d sneak out, he used to go down the tree that laid sprouted close to it. It’d been easy until he realized the tree creaked loudly and Father heard it every time. He’d started just jumping out of the window entirely but the smoothed down edges of the walls made it harder to get back inside without his gear.

He jumped down to the small, pillow-padded balcony in front of his windows and slid inside. Quietly he pushed the windows down shut and turned around.

Father stood in front of him, large and imposing. “Where were you?” he asked.

Damian grit his teeth. “Out.”

“Where?” When Damian didn’t answer, Father rose to full height. “Damian, I asked you a question.”

“I was _out_ ,” Damian spat. “Is that a crime now? I thought my free time was mine to enjoy.”

“Not when you don’t tell anyone where you go off beforehand, Damian,” Father snapped. There was a pensive silence before he spoke again. “Were you with that boy? Thomas?”

Damian’s heart slammed into his ribcage at record speed but _fuck_ , if he was going to shove year’s worth of training down the drain and let Father catch him _now_. “Who?”

“Duke Thomas,” Father repeated, stepping forward with a heavy footfall. “Were you with him tonight?”

His mouth burned at the accusation _._ “I don’t even know who that is.” He matched eyes with Father, keeping his voice light but thick with annoyance. “How about making sure I actually have _friends_ to sneak off with before you accuse me of such bullshit? Maybe I would’ve been with him tonight, or with _anyone_ , if you _hadn’t_ been keeping me under lock and key for the last _six_ months.”

“You’ve been cagey lately,” Father retorted, because he always had _something_. “And you won’t tell me where you keep vanishing off to during patrols, Damian.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Damian seethed, balling his hands into fists. “I’m _on_ patrol. I’m focused on the objective at hand. That’s how I was _trained_.”

Father’s jaw twitched. Damian drew back but kept his stance and his eyes steady. Focus was important here. Detecting a minor twitch, a subtle tell, _anything_ , was of the upmost importance in maintaining the upper hand and not getting caught.

And, _God_ , did he not want to get caught.

“Where were you, Damian?” Father asked again, his voice full of steel walls.

“I went for a walk,” Damian said, his voice just as guarded, just as heavily walled.

 _Liar_ , Father’s eyes seemed to say. But he had nothing. No proof. No evidence.

Just an assumption. Which meant nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Even Damian knew that much.

Finally, when the seconds grew tenser between them, Father relinquished. Damian exhaled slow, making it clear he was finished too without conceding it as a sigh of relief, despite it being how he felt. Relieved.

Settled.

Father swept out of the room without another word. No doubt to find some shred of evidence on his cameras, some shred of proof that Damian was somewhere he was not supposed to be, with someone he wasn’t supposed to be with. He wanted to keep Damian caged up in the manor like a live and dangerous animal trapped in a cell.

Damian just wanted to exist freely like any other person. Wasn’t that the point of keeping him there? Wasn’t that the point of making sure he didn’t defect back to the League? To show him how to be _human_ , to be _normal_.

Though nothing they ever did was normal.

Nothing he’d ever done was normal.

He’d died. He’d come back to life. He’d been trained to kill. He’d killed. He’d witness the downfall of villages, towns, communities that the rest of the world had never known to exist or had believed to a be a myth.

He’d witness the wake of magic.

He’d dressed up in a bright costume and gone out to _fight_ petty criminals and manic supervillains every night since he was thirteen. He’d befriended a girl who could turn invisible and a boy who could become a hulking mass of gigantic rage at will.

He wasn’t, by human standards, normal.

And for some reason, Duke liked that about him. Which was strange. And abnormal. As far as it went, the only person in his immediate family to actually like him for him was Grayson and even that took a few months. As far as Damian was concerned, it only happened due to Grayson’s high insistence in believing everyone had some level of good in them.

And that Damian was a child, unaware of his own atrocities.

Grayson had stopped believing in that pretty quickly though.

Damian rubbed his face, suddenly wearier than he’d been before, and settled down onto his bed, fishing his phone out from his pocket. A notification hovered across the screen. He snapped his thumb up, typed in his password and clicked his messaging system.

_What r u doing tmr?_

Damian grinned. _Nothing. You?_

_Going 2 fair. U come?_

He bit his lip for a second, pondering. In the back of his mind, he knew he was supposed to ask but at the forefront all he could think about was what Duke would taste like after cotton candy. He sighed and typed in his response before shutting down his phone and locking it away in his dresser.

He stared at the ceiling and grinned stupidly, despite himself.

 _Yes_.

\--

“Trash?” Duke nodded, glancing off to the empty trash bin. “Dishes?”

“I cooked,” he said, glancing back at Mrs. Robinson. “And I got all my homework done at school so I don’t have anything…”

She clicked her teeth, running her finger down the list before folding it up and patting his arm. “Alright, you can go.”

He grinned. “Thanks.”

“But be back before ten.” When he winced, shooting her with wide eyes and hopeful looks, she relented. “Eleven. Thirty.”

He smiled, nodded and ducked back down the hallway. The local theatre was showing old horror movies at a discount. It was supposed to run until ten or ten thirty. Damian was on patrol tonight but swore he’d figure out a way to get out of it early so he could come and be educated.

Evidently, the League of Assassins didn’t care much for proper movie education.

And… his dad loved old films. Duke was sure if he looked, he’d be able to find boxes on boxes of them in the storage unit where all his family things had been shucked off to. And he just… Well, he just wanted to experience it all again. With someone good.

Duke swung open the door to his room, fishing through his pockets for his phone. The door swung shut a little too hard. He blinked and glanced up as a cold breeze tethered against his skin.

Why was the window open?

He shoved the pane down, locked it and stepped back. He kept groping around his pockets but he couldn’t find his phone. Panic bloomed in his throat. Where the hell-

“Looking for this?”

Duke swung around, plastering himself up against the window and the wall. His heart hammered rapidly in his chest. From the shadowed corner of his room, a massive figure loomed. Lowly, it stepped out of the corner and into the barest hint of light that pooled around Duke and through the window.

Batman.

Duke’s heart beat faster. Something in his gut was pretty much hissing that this was _not_ good.

In Batman’s gloved hand gripped Duke’s phone. He threw it to him. Fumbling, Duke just barely caught it and pressed it to his chest while Batman hovered in front of him. He took a step forward. Duke skittered to the side.

Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, they both rounded the room, switching sides. Batman at the window, Duke having crawled over his bed and winding up at the door. One handed, Batman unlatched the window and pushed up the pane before stepping off to the side. The shadows seemed to curl around him like a vice.

Years before, he’d been a welcoming force of nature. A savior. A hero. Now, his very presence made Duke’s skin crawl and part of him couldn’t fathom that this was the same man who’d saved his and his parents’ lives.

The window continued to blow in a cool breeze but Batman didn’t leave. He seemed to be waiting for something. Without any attempt at discretion, Duke turned on his phone and logged in. What the fuck did Batman do to his phone?

Would he even be able to spot anything?

A couple alerts spouted over his IM. He moved to it.

“How long have you been seeing my son?”

Duke’s eyes snapped up, his thumb faltering and hitting a completely different app. He swallowed thickly.

So this was about Damian.

Of course it was. Not a friendly chat about having spotted the issues in the serum the Joker had used to turn his parents batshit nuts and discovering a cure like he’d been somewhat praying it was. Like he’d been praying for, for the last few years.

Damian.

Duke stood a little straighter. _Lie_ , a part of his mind whispered. It seemed to carry Damian’s thick accent and venomous tone.

He listened to it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” _Steadier_ , the voice huffed. Duke tightened his grip around his phone and exhaled sharply through his nose. “I’ve never even met Robin. Any of them.”

Batman ignored him. “I know you know who he is and who I am. I know you’re both currently romantically involved. However, the length of time you’ve been so evades my searches.”

“Probably because it’s not happening,” Duke said, voice light but with a little edge to carry across his annoyance. _Good_ , the voice murmured. _Just like that._ “Can’t find what doesn’t exist.”

“It does,” Batman said.

 _Where’s your proof_ , Duke was just about to ask when the proof came skidding in through the window in a flash of yellow, red and green.

Damian peeled off his mask, throwing it off to the side and barreling over to Duke like a man possessed. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“What are you doing here?” Duke hissed.

“You sent me a message,” Damian said, giving Duke a rapid once over. “’Come over immediately.’ I tried to ask why but you weren’t responding. What happened?”

Duke squirmed, glancing over at Batman, who hadn’t moved or _breathed_ ever since Damian barreled in. Damian swung around. His body stiffened.

“Father.”

“Damian.”

“Duke,” Duke muttered weakly as he shifted out of his camera app and moved back into the IM, looking for the message he never sent.

Damian twitched and shifted until he was standing in front of Duke, stance defensive in front of his father. “I see your tactics for confrontation are getting shadier, Father. Spending too much time in Arkham, perhaps?”

“And I see, that despite my teachings, you still value the vulgarity of the League’s,” Batman, or Bruce, retorted back, losing the gravelly “Batman-esque” edge that had been curving over it since he’d begun speaking minutes earlier. “Tell me, Damian? Have you _killed_ anyone while I wasn’t looking?”

Every bit of Damian’s body froze.

 _That’s low,_ Duke thought. Without thinking, he moved in front of Damian. “Don’t be a dick.”

Damian grabbed his wrist. “Duke-”

“He’s being an ass,” Duke snapped without faltering his gaze from Batman’s stupid face. “And he knows it. This was a shit move. This is my home, this is my _room._ You can’t just barge into people’s space when you don’t have permission. And you _don’t_ have permission to be here.” Shakily he pointed to the window and rerouted every piece and bit of confidence to his voice. “Get the fuck out.”

Batman regarded his words for half a second then climbed out to the fire escape. “Go home, Damian. We’ll discuss this later.”

Then he vanished into the night.

Duke’s knees almost collapsed out from under him.

Weakly, he staggered over to his bed and fell on top of it, exhaling slow and trembling. Damian stood at the door, still frozen. After a few minutes, he turned to Duke. “I cannot believe you just-” His voice cut out, stung in awe. He shifted over to Duke’s bed. “You…”

He shook his head, crawling on top of Duke.

Duke grinned loosely. “I’m very cool,” he said breathlessly. Anxiety littered up his spine but he shook his body out and tried to relax. Slowly, he stroked back Damian’s hair, growing concerned. “How are you?”

Damian bit his lip. Terror encompassed his eyes. Worry. Fear. For a fleeting second, he looked his actual age. “I don’t know.” He sat back on Duke’s waist and stared at the window. “I don’t even…. I can’t think of what he’ll _do_.”

Predictions were important to him. Duke had figured that out early on. Damian like to read people. He liked to know what they were going to do before they did it. It was most likely a part of his training that he hadn’t managed to edge out. Duke had a feeling it keyed into manipulation tactics.

At least, that’s why his mom claimed to be a fan of learning people’s habits. It made it easier to sway witnesses or opponents into saying something guilt-ridden in the middle of the courtroom when you could press their buttons in just the right way. But she never used it for that. Not when she couldn’t, being unlicensed and all. No, she liked to use her learnings for good.

When he was still in grade school, she used to collect Duke after work and settle him out onto a park bench and deduce people from a distance sometimes. If anyone read to be having a horrific day, she sent Duke over to say something nice.

Not sure what to say in this instance to make the situation better and quietly wishing his mom was there to help him, Duke caught Damian’s hands, fisted painfully tight into the bedsheets, and pulled them to his lips. He kissed the inside of one palm then the next. A nervous tremor was quaking in Damian’s arms. Duke ran his hands up Damian’s arms, trying to quell the shakes.

“Deep breaths,” he murmured.

“I’m not a child,” Damian bit back but he squeezed Duke’s hand assuringly and inhaled deeply anyway.

Duke rolled his eyes. “If you were, this situation would be way more creepy.”

Damian snorted but finally relaxed. “I should leave,” he muttered, glancing out at the window.

His body stayed tucked up against Duke.

“Later,” Duke said. He pushed one hand through Damian’s hair. “I want to know about these friends you mentioned before.”

Damian stared at him, half-amused. “Oh?”

“Yeah, mostly because I definitely don’t see it.” Duke’s thumb ran along the underside of Damian’s ear. “I mean, you’re not cool enough to have friends.”

Damian _glowered_. He shoved up from Duke, planting both hands firmly on Duke’s chest. “Maya and Colin are perfectly real! And Jon!”

“Oh, yeah?” Duke challenged as he pushed himself up so that Damian was sitting on his thighs. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Prove it.”

Damian stared him, green eyes _boring_ at him. Finally, the edge of his mouth quirked up into a happy smirk. He dug into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Sounding _too_ happy, he pleasantly said, “Jon is Superman’s son” and flashed Duke a happy picture of Damian scowl-smiling with his arm around a boy with a wide grin in half-assed Superman costume.

They were both floating in front of the Statue of Liberty.

Duke stared at the photo before knocking the phone out of Damian’s hand and pinning him against the bed. Damian did not seem _at all_ upset by this development.

“Yes?”

“You cannot leave me for Superman’s son,” Duke demanded. “I know he can fly and is probably invincible but I can do advanced calculus in my head!”

Damian rolled his eyes. “Jon is _ten_.”

Duke frowned. “But… he’s so much _taller_ than you.”

Damian snatched up a pillow and swatted Duke across the face with it. “I am not that short!”

Laughing, Duke covered Damian’s mouth. “ _Shh_.” He cupped Damian’s cheeks and leaned in close. “Someone will hear you.” Damian scowled but softened under Duke’s touch, releasing his weapon to the floor. “Now,” Duke murmured, pulling Damian into his chest as he fell back to the bed, “tell me about your friends.”

\--

When Damian arrived home, the sky was just barely pitching a low pink along the horizon, the sun rising steady and brisk. He parked his motorcycle to the side and stood outside. Who knew if Father would even let him leave the _house_ after this?

The front doors creaked open. Todd stepped out. Damian regarded him with a careful nod, ignoring the smirk that was widening across his face. Despite his own bike being parked several feet away under the helpful shelter of some trees, he walked over to Damian.

“What are you doing, Todd?

“Just finished my debrief report,” he said nonchalantly, still smirking like an imbecile.

“I’ll have Drake proof it for spelling and grammatical errors,” Damian snarked, crossing his arms.

“Alright.” Todd _giggled._ “So. You’ll _never_ guess what Bruce mentioned on patrol tonight.”

Damian locked his jaw. “ _What_?”

“Well, I was just asking around, wondering where you were and all because I’m so caring-” _More like nosy,_ Damian thought, steeling his gaze on the bushes in front of him. “-and he said he sent you _home_. And, of course, I just gently asked why a few times-” _Over and over again until your voice became grinding_ , Damian corrected. “-And he said it was because you’d been lying to him about your disappearances for the last few months.

“And then _Dickie-”_ Todd laughed, shifting the blame from him to Grayson. “Dick asked why and Bruce said you were _in a relationship_.”

Damian rolled his eyes. “So?”

Todd stopped laughing, eyes going wide. “Shit, he was _serious?”_ He snorted, surprised. “I thought he was just trying to get us all to shut up.” Damian didn’t say anything. Todd nudged him. “You’re dating? Has anyone even given you the sex talk yet?”

Damian scowled. “Fuck off, Todd.”

“I mean, I _can_ because I know how,” Todd said. “Do you know how is my question.”

Damian shifted uneasily. “Of course, I know how.”

Thankfully, Todd didn’t demand any more elaboration. He was so much more different than the rest of them. Grayson would’ve asked for _proof_ , adding more fodder to Damian’s embarrassment.

“Well, good for you, kid.” Todd clapped his back roughly. “Hitting all the milestones this year. Dating, teenage rebellion, pissing off a parental figure, _not dying_.” He grinned ruthlessly and began backing off to his bike. “Keep it up!”

“Idiot,” Damian muttered as he watched him walk off.

Restlessly, he checked the time and sighed. Time for his conversation with Father. He pulled open the manor doors and shuffled inside, heading for the Cave. On his way down, the nerves he’d been feeling earlier sluck back inside him. He crossed his arms and took comfort in the feel of Duke’s sweater. The way it felt against him.

The way it _smelled_.

He closed his eyes and pushed open the door to the Cave. Grayson was still in costume, voice raised. Father stood across from him, stripping down and very obviously trying not to listen. Drake huddled past Damian. He paused for a second, like he was ready to say something, a snarky statement or a mutter of luck, but he shook his head and ducked out of the room as fast as he could.

Damian inhaled slowly and walked to the center.

“Master Damian,” Pennyworth said, voice clear and loud, directed at the argument in front of him.

Grayson stopped whatever it was he complaining about and Father froze. His eyes narrowed as they stilled on Damian. A feeling of meekness crashed into him. He swallowed thickly. Father’s boot clattered to the floor.

“Dick, we can talk later,” Father said, not looking at Grayson at all. “Damian and I have some things to discuss.”

“And what I have to say, what I’ve _been_ saying, ties into whatever bullshit you’re gonna inflict, Bruce,” Grayson snapped.

Damian winced. Evidently, Father was not going for a light punishment in these circumstance. Grayson and Father rarely so ever clashed as heartily as they did when Damian was in the picture. “Grayson, I can handle myself.”

“I know,” Grayson said. “But sometimes it’s good to have a person in your corner, Damian.” He turned back to Bruce. “He’s been happier and less volatile, Bruce. Take that fucking into account for once.”

From the look in Father’s eyes, he wasn’t interested in taking any of it into account. Just the fact that Damian _lied_ , multiple times, and risked their safety and their identities. “Dick. We’ll finish this later.”

“Bruce-”

“Grayson,” Damian hissed. “Just go.”

Grayson’s ferocity fell. He grabbed a towel from the table and stormed off. Pennyworth looked between Father and Damian and followed.

Damian stiffened himself. “I-”

“You told him who we were,” Father said. “And you didn’t inform me of any of it, even though I asked you about your whereabouts _time and time_ again. All you had to do, Damian, was _tell me_.”

“And what would you have done?” Damian snapped. “Forbidden me to see him again? No. But you would’ve kept me on patrols that didn’t go into his area. You would’ve forced me to stick to your side every night. You would’ve given me tasks to do during the day so I wouldn’t be able to even _meet_ him at his school or a shop.”

Father’s jaw twitched. “I wouldn’t have-”

“YOU WOULD HAVE!” Damian shouted. “Don’t _fucking_ lie! You would have done that _every_ single time!”

“How do you know, Damian?” Father snarled. He stalked forward. “You can’t know because _it never happened_. It wasn’t even an option for you! I have given you everything I could possibly I can and you still don’t trust me!”

“You’re supposed to!” Damian clenched his hands into fists. “This isn’t a give-and-take scenario. You are my father,” he snapped. “You’re supposed to care for me so don’t you dare use that as an excuse. I don’t _have_ to trust you. And why should I?” His body shook. “You don’t trust me to contact my mother without you there. You don’t trust me to go off on my own without your permission. Drake can do whatever he wants and you don’t bat an eye if he’s gone for more than a day, for a week.”

“Tim is an adult-”

“He wasn’t when I got here! Don’t derail this!” Memories hurtled at the front of his mind. “You spy on me! You kept me tracked for _two years_!”

Father bared himself out, body brimming with unfettered rage. “ _You were spying on me for your mother!_ ”

Damian went impossibly still.

Ah, right.

That little _nugget._

“I-”

“Your mother and _the League_ attempted to kill me, Tim _and_ Dick,” Father hissed. “And you were the reason they _almost_ got away with it, Damian.”

His eyes bored into Damian’s and for once, Damian couldn’t keep them up, couldn’t keep them focused. He dropped his eyes and felt weak. “I-“

“I kept you because I want _far_ better things for you than the League could ever provide but _do not-_ ” Father’s voice snarled _. “Do not_ tell me that I am supposed to trust you unconditionally _because_ you are my son, when you haven’t even done the _barest_ of the minimum to deserve that.

“You refuse to let me know your whereabouts in advance, refused to tell me or _anyone_ that you’ve been seeing _that boy_ , fight me on every question, every query when I am just trying to look out for you, Damian. How am I supposed to trust someone who, in his _right_ mind and of his _own_ volition, tried to kill me _and_ my other children several times when _he won’t_ give me a reason to?”

Damian trembled. “I don’t-”

“Give me your phone,” Father ordered. For half a second, Damian considered objecting but he dug his hand into his pockets and handed the device over without meeting Father’s eyes. “You’re grounded indefinitely. No patrols, no outings, no calls.” He placed Damian’s phone down on the table and sighed. “Go to your room. We’ll discuss the finer details of your punishment later.”

With that, Father stalked out of the room, leaving Damian cast in darkness and the gut-wrenching feeling of stomach curdling _guilt_.

\--

Damian flipped to the next page The Goblet of Fire, the fourth book in a series Drake had given him the previous Christmas. After going through all the intriguing books in the manor for the umpteenth, Damian found himself regrettably in need of something new and refreshing.

Unfortunately, Drake’s book was that.

He scratched his jaw, wondering if Ron was ever going to notice that he _liked_ Hermione.

It seemed heavily unlikely.

A crash sounded from outside his window.

Frowning, Damian pushed the bookmark splayed between his fingers into the inner crevice of his book and set it down beside him. Warily, he approached the window, one hand moving to the pocket knife in his pocket, and heaved open the curtain with his free one. Duke’s happy grin flashed at him, the boy splayed out awkwardly in the pillows along the balcony.

Damian shoved open the window. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Duke shrugged. “I wanted to see you.” He scratched the edge of his lip. “Plus I figured your dad took away all your shit when you didn’t answer any of my calls or texts so-” He rubbed the back of his neck and refused to make eye contact. “-I wanted to check in on you.”

Despite himself, Damian flushed a low red. He squirmed lightly. “You’re going to get me into further trouble with Father,” he muttered, pulling away from the window.

Crawling in after him, Duke said, “You don’t have to tell him I was here.”

“I know,” Damian said dryly, giving Duke a rather pointed look. “The twenty thousand cameras he has stashed everywhere will do that for me.”

Duke frowned, glancing back at the window. “I didn’t see any-”

“Not obvious ones,” Damian grumbled, crawling into his bed and opening up his book again, though he couldn’t force himself to read any of the words.

“So like the Spy Kids cameras?” Duke asked, crawling up beside him and nuzzling the back of his neck.

Damian shivered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about but sure.”

Duke snorted. “Adding that to your modernization training,” he said. Wrapping his arms around Damian’s waist, he added, “Couldn’t you just edit the footage or something?”

Rolling his eyes and rolling over, Damian clamped his book shut around his thumb. “I could. If I knew the new password to get into the cameras, if there weren’t fifty different and _constantly_ changing defenses against hacking and if Father didn’t review the footage _daily._ ”

And knowing Father and how he refused to lend Damian an ounce of trust over anything, that mean the footage was being reviewed in the morning, on his lunch break and most likely on his way home from Wayne Enterprises or whatever gala he had scheduled for the evening, if he didn’t drag Damian off in attendance.

“Wow,” Duke muttered. He rubbed a soothing spot on Damian’s hip with his thumb. “Batman’s hardcore.”

Damian shrugged. “Mother is hardcore,” he corrected. “Father is… difficult.”

He glanced Duke over. She would’ve approved of him, he thought. Smart, tenacious, understanding. He had a fighter in him somewhere deep.

Mother always appreciated that kind of trait.

The only downside was that he could visibly see her siccing a whirlwind of assassins, and perhaps herself, onto Duke during their meeting. Duke could hold his own fairly well, Damian knew that, but he doubted a year of taekwondo taken when he was _seven_ were going to help him again a series of elite and trained assassins. It would just barely hold up against an experienced _mugger._

Damian flattened his free hand to Duke’s chest. He liked him.

He didn’t want to see any harm come to him under any circumstances and by any means.

It was strange to feel such adoration for someone he’d only known for a short bit of time, especially when the feeling began dawning over him somewhere around the second month of their interactions. Colin had been the shortest amount of time of all who Damian had grown to care for and even that had taken weeks longer than it had with Duke.

But despite the strangeness, Damian felt at ease. Emotions played such a trick of him so often. It’d been easier in the League when the only emotion needed was rightneousness and vegnance, power and the lust for it.

Realizing he’d grown to care for Grayson had nearly caused him a spasm of discomfort, leading to almost shoving the man off a roof and hiding from him for days afterwards. Since then though, he’d been getting better and better at it. Maya had teased him that it was likely due to Alfred and Titus’s presences. It was always easier to care for an animal than a person and it probably helped him _grow_.

He threw a biscuit at her smirking face for that.

Still, Duke was sudden and kept growing on Damian like a parasite. And strangle, Damian had no desire to remove him.

He caught Duke’s hand. “Would you like a tour?”

Squeezing Damian’s hand, Duke nodded. “Sure.”

“First and foremost, we start with the Cave.”

Duke snapped his gaze to Damian quickly. Boyish wonder lit up in his voice. “The BatCave?”

Damian rolled his eyes. “What other cave would I be referring to?” He pushed open the doors and began descending down to the Cave. “Besides, I have to feed Batcow.”

Quickly following him, Duke caught Damian’s arm and grappled for his hand. “ _You have a cow?”_

Damian hummed in affirmation and pulled Duke a little closer. He pushed through the doors to the Cave. “Watch out for the bats,” he warned. “They like to roost in the ceilings.”

“Is that a dinosaur?” Duke hissed, gaping at the T-Rex skeleton. “What the fuck?”

“Yes,” Damian said smoothly. He pointed at a spot near the skeleton’s right eye-hole. “If you look close enough, you can see the gouge that Drake’s foot made after I pushed him off.”

Duke squeezed Damian’s hand just hard enough to burn and gave him a look. “This is so weird.”

Nodding, Damian stared at the skeleton. “Yes, I don’t quite understand the point of it either but I suppose it’s an interesting way to divert attention in the event of a break-in.”

“What?” Duke glanced up at the skeleton. “Oh, yeah, no, a skeleton is weird enough but I just mean-” He gestured vaguely to the open room with his free hand. “Everything.”

Frowning, Damian glanced around the room.

The computers glowed brightly. The traditional Bat emblem had been replaced on all the screens, save the main computer’s, with some crudely drawn picture of Red Hood blowing smoke out of the barrel of his gun days ago, courtesy of a hundred dollar payment to Oracle for the hack. Father had been too preoccupied with Damian and recent missions to bother changing it.

Damian wondered if he’d actually even noticed it.

Unfortunately, aside from pre-designated feeding times, Damian had been banned from entering the Cave without supervision and locked out of its systems so he couldn’t change it himself. It was growing tiresome of seeing Todd’s mask looming at him from multiple screens.

Stealing his grip over Duke’s hand, he tugged him along over to where Batcow was resting. Upon sight of them, the cow raised easily to her legs and bounded slowly over. Damian dropped Duke’s hand to brush up her snout.

“That’s a clever marking,” Duke muttered, stroking along her flank.

Damian grinned. “I thought so too.” He grabbed a bag of her feed and began pouring into her trough. “I found her in a slaughterhouse,” he said, pulling back and resting the bag against the trough. Batcow had turned at the noise and began walking back over. “It was highly inhumane.”

“So were you a vegetarian before or after?” Duke asked, leaning against Batcow’s side as she grazed.

“After,” Damian said, rolling his eyes. “But I still hold your ability to eat meat against you.”

Duke snorted, grabbing Damian and tugging him close. “Rude.” Alfred clambered up Damian’s thigh and to his shoulder, mewing loudly at Duke’s face. Duke drew back and stared at him. He licked his lips. “So a cow _and_ a cat.”

“And a dog and a turkey,” Damian continued, scratching under Alfred’s chin. “This is Alfred. Pennyworth gave him to me.”

“Pennyworth,” Duke mused. He closed his eyes. “Somehow I doubt that he’s that clown from the movie.”

Damian frowned. “Pennyworth is not a clown. He’s my Father’s confidant. And butler.”

Duke nodded. “Okay. And the dog?”

“Titus,” Damian said clearly. “A gift from my father. Jerry, I won at an auction in Smallville with Jon.”

“You won a turkey at an auction,” Duke deadpanned.

Damian shrugged. “It was a Thanksgiving auction.” He grabbed Alfred by the scruff of his neck and dropped him onto Batcow’s back. The cat seemed to give Duke a once over before bounding away. “What about you?”

“Pets?” Damian nodded. Duke stepped back and leaned against Batcow’s side. “Well. I had a cat. But, uh, she got taken in by a shelter after my parents…” Duke crossed his arms. “Her name was Purrlina. My dad named her. He found her half-dead under his car right after he got laid-off the first time.” Duke grinned. “She was a tabby. All small and scrawny though. She needed so much care.”

“But you helped her.”

Duke’s eyes softened. “Yeah, we helped her. One of the vets knew my mom and got her all done up with shots and medications at half-price. She got _fat_ within a few months.” Duke licked his lips, eyes downcast. “I miss her.”

Damian stepped in close. It didn’t matter how well he’d be doing with social interactions lately, grief was always something he struggled to deal with. He swallowed thickly and cupped Duke’s cheek. “I’m sure she misses you too.”

Duke grinned and kissed the inside of Damian’s palm, one hand curving over his waist and pulling him in close. Damian dropped his hand from Duke’s face to lope around his neck and kiss him deeply.

To his left, someone cleared their throat rather loudly. Damian jerked, instincts blaring at him to shove Duke to the side and weaponize the nearest object. Luckily, he knew that familiar cough and simply drew back, the grip of his hands tightening over the curve of Duke’s neck.

“Master Damian,” Pennyworth began, looking overtly unamused, “Master Dick is on hold for you. He wishes to discuss if you’re still available to attend movie night with him and Master Tim this evening or if your grounding denies that.”

Scowling, Damian drew back farther. His arms dropped soundlessly from Duke’s shoulders. “I believe it does, Pennyworth.”

Pennyworth hummed, eying Duke with careful gaze. “I will inform him of such, then.”

Damian grit his teeth. “Yes, you should. Now, preferably, before he forgets he’s still on the line.”

Eyes sparking a sudden amusement, Pennyworth meandered over to them, extending his hand to Duke. “Alfred Pennyworth, Mr. Thomas.”

“Uh, Duke’s okay,” Duke said as he took Pennyworth’s hand and shook it swiftly.

Somewhere, the hands of fate were testing the levels of Damian’s patience.

“It’s quite nice to finally meet you,” Pennyworth continued, drawing his hands behind his back. A smirk quirked at the edge of his lips. “Despite his clear infatuation, Master Damian refuses to tell anyone anything remotely intriguing about you.”

“His name is enough,” Damian said, face burning. He began struggling out of Duke’s grip.

Tugging him closer, Duke grinned cheekily, the bastard. “Clear infatuation?”

“Very overt,” Pennyworth went on. “Master Dick and I find it quite adorable, I must say.”

“Pennyworth,” Damian snarled, digging his nails into the fleshy back of Duke’s hands, “I swear-”

“Well,” he cut in, turning on his feet and heading of, “I must be off before the call drops. Master Dick can be so forgetful at times.”

Damian watched him walk away, wondering if Grayson had even called or if Pennyworth was just looking for an excuse to _torment_ him. His entire family was garbage and he was going to figure out how to get rid of all of them some day.

Soon, preferably.

Before any of them could humiliate him any further.

Laughing softly, Duke pressed his mouth to Damian’s cheek. If anything, Damian’s face burned more and he pushed out Duke’s hold harshly.

“I hate everyone,” he grumbled. He pressed his face into Batcow’s back. “I’m going to kill them all, I swear.”

“Well, if it helps, I’m also very infatuated with you,” Duke teased, squeezing his shoulder but otherwise keeping his distance.

“It doesn’t,” Damian muttered miserably, clicking his teeth against his tongue. He moved his head over so his cheek rested squarely on her back. “But thank you for the sentiment.”

“Well-” Duke shrugged. “-it’s true. I find your intense staring and angry kisses very charming.”

Damian shot up. “My kisses aren’t angry!”

Duke looked to the side. “ _Well..._ ” Damian crossed his arms and scowled. Duke laughed and reached out for him. “So, the staring issue is fine but insulting your _kissing_ abilities…”

Damian grabbed his hand and settled close to him. “I think I’m quite spectacular at it by now.”

“I bet I’m better,” Duke teased, cornering him up against Batcow, who continued to graze against the hay, uninterested in their teenage shenanigans.

“Doubtful,” Damian said, catching the back of Duke’s head and pulling him down.

Duke laughed against Damian’s mouth but kissed back, just as needy as Damian was. Duke was intoxicating in ways that Damian couldn’t even begin to grasp. Every inch of his touch sent Damian’s mind reeling. Had been since the moment he caught Duke’s pretty eyes staring down at him as the boy patched him up.

Duke’s hands tightened over Damian’s waist, teeth nibbling in the crook where Damian’s neck and collar bone met. Damian almost chatisied him before deciding it didn’t matter. He caught Duke’s face in his hands and pulled him back up, chasing the dark taste of peppermint he’d been growing ridiculously addicted to.

A series of concepts, each one smudging dirty and shameful, curled to the forefront of Damian’s mind. He shuddered, whining low into Duke’s mouth.

Pulling away, he cleared his throat, struggling to feel in control again. “We should continue the tour now.”

Duke laughed, pressing a swift kiss to Damian’s cheek, and let Damian pull him away.

\--

They had found themselves splayed out on Damian’s bed hours later. The tour had covered the entire house, top to bottom, touching briefly into places Damian never bothered to tread, like Drake’s room. In the end, they’d wound up right where Damian had suspected they would, curled into each other on his bed.

They’d kissed briefly for a while then stopped to talk, to breathe, to exist peacefully in each other’s presences.

It was… _perfect._

“Hey.” Duke shifted, pulling out his phone. He fiddled with it for a few seconds, fingers stroking through Damian’s hair. “Picture? My friends want to know whose been giving me so many hickeys lately.”

Damian laughed and pressed his cheek to Duke’s chest. He let his eyes flutter shut. Everything felt very warm.

“Sure,” he murmured. He traced over the exposed skin near Duke’s hip. “Just them.”

“They’re the only ones who follow me anyway,” Duke said, positioning the phone far above them.

Damian glanced up, catching sight of his face, happily lovesick, and Duke’s grinning wide. Duke hit the button in the center and it was memorialized. A frozen moment in time. He pulled it back to his face, fiddled with the screen some more before digging the phone back into his pocket and stroking his fingers through Damian’s hair again.

Damian shifted, kissing down the exposed length of Duke’s neck. Quiet, he laid his head back down on Duke’s chest and hummed, pleasantly, eyes fluttering shut. Duke’s fingers worded their way down his back, slipping under his shirt and resting on the small of his back. Damian hummed into the touch.

A contentedness washed over him, warm.

The revved engine of a car pulling up the driveway, the clang of the garage door opening, snapped Damian away from the heat of Duke’s chest. He pulled away gently and glanced the time on his watch.

“Time to go?” Duke asked, catching Damian’s free hand.

“I would say so.”

“Okay.” Duke waggled his eyebrows then shoved out of Damian’s grip and darted out of the room through the door.

Through the open window, he could hear Drake and Father’s voices. Panic slapped at the base of his neck. It drizzled cold down his back, pooling in the pain of his lower back. He darted out of the room, barreling into Duke. They collapsed into a messy pile on the floor. Damian straddled Duke’s waist, keeping him pinned to the floor.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” he hissed.

“If he’s gonna know I was here anyway, what’s the point of hiding it?” Duke mused. “Don’t stress it, honeypants.”

“Duke, I can’t-” Damian paused before recoiling backwards. “ _Honeypants_?”

Duke pouted. “You don’t like it?”

Damian winced. “It’s, um… _unique_ _._ ”

“Unique meaning you’ve never heard it before?”

Damian shook his head. “Grayson may have said something similar once but I don’t see how calling anyone honeyed pants would be an appealing pet name.”

Duke snorted. “Okay then. What would you suggest?”

Damian gave him a dead-eyed stared. “Do I look like the kind of person who hands out pet names to someone very frequently? Or at all?” He sat back on Duke’s waist. “You’d have better luck asking Pennyworth that question.”

“Alright then,” Duke laughed as he sat up. “I want a pet name.”

Damian scowled. “Did you not just hear-”

“I want-” Duke bopped the tip of his finger to Damian’s nose. “-a pet name, Damian.” He raised his arms in mock surrender, eyes sparkling amusement. “Not now but sometime soon so either you come up with something sweet or start asking around because I will be waiting, _mi amor_.” Damian arched an eyebrow, the accent twisting half-assed on Duke’s tongue. Duke grinned. “What? It was the least ridiculous one I could think of.”

“I didn’t know you spoke Spanish.”

“Yeah, well, five years of repetitive classes and it was only watching telenovelas with Mrs. Alvarez next door that made anything _stick_ ,” Duke muttered as he pulled out from Damian so sharply, Damian went crashing backwards to the floor. “And now I’m going to ambush your father.”

Damian froze. Father’s arrival had nearly blipped out of his mind with Duke’s distracting smile and silly pet name.

What was this boy doing to him?

Thirteen years of concentrated focus, of intensive, _torturous_ training on how not lose sight of the mission at hand, of _himself_ , gone in an instant over a pleasant voice and squirming feelings.

He scrambled to his feet, chasing Duke down the hallway. Duke had a painful headstart but Damian was faster and less fearful of slipping on the carpet or falling down the stairs. He caught Duke just before he could round the corner towards the entrance, grabbing him and pinning him against the wall.

“Duke-”

“He’s already going to know I was here,” Duke said, cutting him off. He cupped Damian’s cheeks. “And somehow I feel he’ll be less pissed seeing me walk out past him versus watching me crawl out of your window through the security footage. Plus-” Duke shrugged half-heartedly. “You said he didn’t trust you and that’s why we’re in this mess. Which one do you think guarantees at least a smidge of it? Trying to hide the fact I was here or not doing that?”

Damian swallowed. “I don’t- I-” His breaths cut short and he pulled back, feeling shameful. Dropping his gaze, he squeezed his hands into tight fists. He inhaled slowly. “I don’t want to lose you. More than I already have.”

“Then trust me, okay?” Duke ran his thumb over Damian’s cheek.

Damian closed his eyes. Tension eased out of his shoulders. With his voice barely at a whisper, he said, “Okay.”

Duke dropped his hands and rounded the corner, standing at the wall, his eyes trained carefully on the front door. A mix of feelings pushed through Damian’s chest but he stepped close by. Outside, he could hear Father and Drake’s voices, merging together. His blood soared in his ears and his focus slipped from what they were saying to calming the racing beat of his pulse.

As the front door pushed open, Duke straightened up and squeezed Damian’s hand. Damian’s heart pounded against his rib cage, his grip steeling over Duke’s hand. Then the doors fell open fully and he released him, eyes fluttering shut.

Father’s voice vanished from whatever he’d been talking about with Drake moments before. Confident for a boy walking toward the den of a lion, Duke marched on from Damian towards the front door. Drake stepped to the side to let him through.

Duke slowed as he passed Father, giving a courteous nod. Something glimmered in his eyes. A plead for Damian’s soul, perhaps?

Damian licked his lips and hurried after him, squeezing past Drake and Father and catching Duke’s hand as he rounded over to his bicycle, propped next to Father’s car. Duke glanced at the front door, still wide open, then back at Damian. “Hey.”

“Um, don’t-” Damian shifted a little bit, blocking Drake and Father out of his view. “Be safe getting home.”

Duke rolled his eyes and leaned against his bike. “I have ridden a bike through Gotham traffic before, Damian.” He pulled his helmet off the bike handle. “I think I’ll be fine.”

“Uh huh,” Damian said vaguely, marking his eyes all over Duke’s face. _Kiss him_ , he thought, voice ruthless. There was something embarrassing about that thought. He’d teased Grayson before about his seeming inability to be around Gordon or Koriand’r without turning the people around him into voyeurs and suddenly Damian was plunged into the same belt.

Well, he considered while Duke fiddled around with his helmet strap, if he was going to be like Grayson, he may as well take a page out of Grayson’s book. Without any preamble, he launched himself into Duke’s space, wrapping his arms around his neck and sinking into him.

Duke startled before making an appreciate noise against Damian’s mouth. His left arm curved around Damian’s waist, body ducking low to accommodate their height different. Easy, he twisted them just enough to keep their kiss shy from the gazes of the two in the doorway.

Pulling away softly, Duke pressed their foreheads together. Damian let his eyes stay shut, feeling wildly content in Duke’s grip.

It was strange.

But he welcomed the feeling.

After a minute had passed, he pulled away, letting his arms fall heavily to his side. Duke grinned as he fit his helmet over his head. Pulling the bike away from the car, he swung his leg over and pointed at Damian. “Pet name! Don’t forget!”

“You will be _very_ disappointed with what I come up with!” Damian promised.

“Don’t care!” Duke yelled, cycling away. “See you!”

Despite himself, despite the people watching him in the background, despite his grandfather’s voice and all the endless teaching of emotions and resilience, Damian smiled, watching Duke disappear out onto the road.

And he hoped he’d make it home okay.

Turning on his heel, Damian marched his way back inside. As he passed Father and Drake, both still standing in the doorway, he cleared his throat. “Father,” he said, looking the man dead in the eyes. He glanced at Drake and let his voice fall disgusted. “ _Drake_.”

“Amazing,” Drake said as Damian headed for the stairs. “Lovesick puppy dog to angrily plotting my murder in a split second.”

\--

Surrounded by laughing teens, Duke ducked out of the warm bodega and back into the slicing cold. In his right hand, the bag of late night snacks clanked together. He rubbed his jaw, sparking a grin at Tracy who’d nudged him teasingly.

“You okay?” she asked.

He’d spent most of the day with his friends, thinking faintly of Damian still trapped up in his home. He didn’t know how Batman, Bruce, Mr. Wayne – _whatever_ , was handling their tryst the day before but he was trying to keep himself busy, checking his phone infrequently for any message Damian might’ve been able to send him.

Part of him worried he’d made things worse. Part of him hoped he’d made things better.

Most of him didn’t know what he’d done and was trying to keep from going crazy about it.

“Yeah,” he said, cutting his eyes to his feet. “I’m just a little tired.”

“Really? Cause you seemed spaced through the whole movie,” Hodge said, spinning around and walking backwards.

“Maybe because watching a sad French movie wasn’t something I’m into,” Duke drawled dryly.

“Hey, if I gotta watch cheesy horror films from the 70’s that _don’t_ even make me scared of sleeping for three months, then you gotta deal with my tastes,” Hodge teased. He cut his eyes over to the next building. “Ah, gotta jet, Mom’s still up.”

Duke grabbed the bottle of cream soda from his bag and chucked it at him. “Alright.”

Carol leaned back. “You working tomorrow?”

“Dawn ‘til dusk, baby, you know how I do,” Hodge yelled as he crossed the street. “I’ll see y’all Monday!”

They waved him off and carried back down the street. Carol ducked beside Tracy, swinging her arm over her girlfriend’s shoulders.

“So Dukey-Duke,” she started, “when are we meeting the infamous boy from your Snaps? Thought he was joining us tonight.”

“He was going to. But.” Duke laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Um, I dunno. He’s kinda grounded now.”

“Oh.” Carol cocked her head. “Is it something bad?”

“Yeah, um, his dad caught us together and it didn’t really.” Duke stopped and swallowed. “I’m still waiting to hear back from him.”

“Is that why you’ve been so out of it lately?” Tracy asked.

“Guess so,” Duke mumbled. He kicked at the ground, frowning.

“Damn homophobes,” Carol huffed. She pulled Tracy closer to her then yanked the hood of Duke’s jacket, pulling him in too. “It’s okay. I’ll protect both you.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” Tracy groaned, laughter tilting on the edge of her voice. She pushed away. “It could be something other than homophobia, Carol.”

Carol frowned. “Like what?”

“Racism,” Tracy said flatly.

Duke snorted. “Okay, I don’t- I don’t think it’s either of those, alright? It’s just-” He sighed. “They just… have a weird relationship and… trust issues.”

Tracy nodded. “Well, trust issues sound a lot better than the other two.” They paused outside a condominium complex. “You want me to see if my mom will give you a ride home?” she asked as she rifled her keys out of her pocket.

Duke shook his head. He pulled out his bag of chips and pushed it into his jacket pocket. “Nah, it’s not that late. I can catch the train fine.”

“Alright.” She pressed to the tips of her toes and kissed his cheek. Taking the rest of the bag with her, she swung open the door. “Stay safe, okay?”

“Night, Duke,” Carol hummed, following Tracy inside.

Duke waved them off and turned back down the road, heading down towards the subway.

Without their presence to keep his focus busy, his mind kept derailing back to Damian.

Despite the fact that he’d spent days without Damian popping over for a quick kiss back when he was just Robin and Duke was just the kind civilian who helped him out of a near-death situation, it felt weird that he hadn’t see him or heard him in last couple of days.

Like losing something too soon.

Too sudden.

It itched at him to visit again but he didn’t want to make things worse, didn’t want to ruin what was already so delicate.

He’d thought, wrongly perhaps, that if he acted like there was nothing to hide then maybe Bruce, Batman, _Bruceman_ would realize there was nothing wrong and let Damian out of his cage but so far, it was nothing of the sort.

Damian had talked about his friends, his stories with them, sneaking out to screw around with them behind his Father’s back and the punishments that followed and Duke had just _thought_ that if this was one story that deviated from the rest then maybe…

Maybe Bruce wouldn’t be as stiff.

As the hours ticked on from that day, Duke was slowly realizing he was probably wrong.

He never should’ve gone over to Damian’s that day. He’d just been so worried, concerned.

Nervous he’d done something wrong and wanting so _hard_ to fix things. He’d spent so many years being stuck, unable to change things, unable to do anything but accept the consequences of things that happened to him, that happened around him, and here, here he had a chance and he fucked up.

Fucked up so bad.

He shoved his hands into his pockets.

He missed Damian. There were so many things he wanted to show him, so many things he wanted to _know_ about him and now-

“Fuck,” he hissed, pressing one hand to his eyes.

He was really tired of crying. Stepping onto the subway, he settled into the far corner of the train and rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand. His mom used to do the same thing.

Damian did too.

He missed them both. His dad. Purrlina. Grandma Nel.

Family.

Duke squeezed his fingers into his palm. He hadn’t seen his grandmother in years. She had growing dementia, turning worse as every year passed by, confined to a residence home. At least one weekend every month, his mom and dad took him down to see her but ever since they- ever since he’d been shunted off into foster care, he hadn’t been able to.

And she lived outside Gotham, a much nicer facility that wasn’t overrun with bad guys trying to steal money by threatening the lives of loved ones every second. A trip out there would be too long, unless he had a car and he didn’t.

Damian did though.

Damian, who’d been very eager to take him out of the city to see her, who’d insisted vehemently that he do so and demanded Duke go through his schedule to sort out all the days he could just so Damian could match them to his schedule and find a good time.

Duke had been excited.

He knocked his head backwards to the glass windows and sighed. He should call, ask to see if he could visit his parents again.

He just needed to surrounded by family again. Even if they didn’t see him when they looked at him.

Tracy, Hodge and Carol were great. But they were new, newer in Duke’s life than Damian. But they loved him and he loved them.

He just needed something familiar.

The subway pulled into his stop and he shuffled off, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants and slipped up the staircase. Wind burst at him, blinding cold. He ducked his face away from it, pulling his hood over his head again and hurrying quick to his building.

“Duke.”

Duke froze.

Creepy voice in the shadows.

That was always a good thing.

Against his better judgement and instinct to _flee_ , he turned around, shaking his hood off his face, and raised his arms over his head. “Look, man, I don’t want any trouble-”

Batman stepped halfway out into the light.

Duke raised his arms higher.

Slow, Batman gestured for him to come closer before stepping back into the shadows. Duke dropped his arms to his side and walked over, keeping to the light of the sidewalk and out of the darkness of the alleyway.

Batman said nothing. Just watched him.

Then, “What are your intentions?”

Duke stared at him, wide-eyed. _“My intentions?_ What is this, the fifties?”

Batman said nothing. He seemed impassive, overbearing. Huge.

Duke was really tired of fearing tall white men.

“To date your son,” he said, voice full of snarked malice. “That’s about it.”

Batman didn’t move an inch, still large. His presence demanded something Duke couldn’t answer. Duke grit his teeth.

“Look, man, if I wanted to reveal your secret to the whole world, I would’ve done it already.” He crossed his arms. “I have absolutely no interest in doing that or anything I could possibly _gain_ from it. All I want, all my intentions _are,_ is to date your son.” He gestured out widely. “That’s _literally_ it.” He turned back towards the street. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a curfew.”

“What do you find appealing about him?”

Duke laughed hoarsely. “ _Seriously_?” Impending silence boomed at him from the shadows, Batman’s masked eyes hard-set on him. He sighed and cut his eyes away. “He’s cute, okay? And nice. He’s got a good voice and I like the way he kisses me.” Duke licked his lips. He couldn’t help the smile that lit up over his face at the thought of Damian. “He’s intense, but in a good way. And he cares for what’s important to him and what _those_ who are important to him care about. He loves his friends, even if he won’t admit it. And I like his fingers. And his _nose._

“And he’s… he’s _sweet_ , in his own way. Even if we’re not the one in a billion who make it their seventies without a split, I’d still want to be his friend. I like him.” Duke snapped his eyes to Batman’s masked ones. “He’s not a terrible person, by the way. Despite what _you_ might still think about him.”

Batman seemed to stiffen up but in the shadows, it was hard to tell. Duke pretended it happened anyway. He felt vindicated by the thought.

“Anyway…” he drawled, “curfew. I gotta go. If you want to grill me more about what I plan on doing with your son, Damian has my number. Have a nice night, Batman.”

Duke threw on his hood and walked off towards the subway again, his bag of chips crinkling in his pocket the whole way.

\--

Damian descended into the Cave. Father stood at the monitors, no doubt counting down the seconds to midnight. Ignoring him, Damian diverted over to Batcow. Alfred was curled into a tight ball in the center of her back. Carefully Damian poured another splash of feed into her trough and swept his hand over Alfred’s fur. The cat barely moved, blinking one eye open.

Gathering Alfred into his arms, Damian turned back towards the stairs.

“Damian!”

Father hadn’t moved from his spot in front of the monitors, though tension strained across his shoulders.

“Yes, Father?” Damian asked.

A beat of silence irked between them, offset and cold. Then, “Hood is off duty tonight so you’ll be going out in his stead. Get your gear. We’ll leave in fifteen.”

Damian bit back the volatile responses that sprang to the tip of his tongue and set Alfred down on the nearest table. In his mind, he fought over what to say. Whether he should say anything at all. The point of speaking.

Finally, he grabbed his costume from its pedestal. “Does this mean I’m no longer grounded?” he asked, nonchalantly as he pulled his shirt over his head.

Father spared him a swift glance before averting his gaze back to the screens. He stayed quiet as Damian changed behind him. As though, he still wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to do with Damian, as though he didn’t know if he still trusted him.  After Damian affixed his mask to his face, Father said, “It depends.”

Damian eyed him. “On?”

Father stood back, crossing his arms over his chest. Beneath the cowl, his face was stretched thin, uncomfortable. He shifted, halfway agitated, and refused to look at Damian. “On whether or not you’ve decided on a pet name.”

Damian paused. _What?_ Then it clicked. He flushed hotly. Embarrassment curdled something thick in his stomach. “Um. I- I haven’t decided on anything yet.”

Quiet seconds stretched between them, tense in awkwardness rather than solitary distrust. Damian kept his eyes trained firmly on the timestamp in the corner, watching the minutes tick up. Father didn’t stop staring at the screens. He would’ve seemed like he was studying the footage, if it weren’t for the fact his eyes didn’t stray from where they pointed dead center ahead of him.

Finally, Damian snapped. Bringing himself to full height, he asked, “What did Mother call you?”

Father blinked. Partially flustered, he ran his hand through his hair, still not looking at Damian. “Your mother,” he began, “called me a lot of things. They were usually teasing.”

Damian wrung his wrists. “Which one did she say the most?”

Father glanced over at Damian. Dressed in costume but lacking the cowl, he almost seemed exposed. Something quiet lit up in his eyes as he regarded Damian over. Finally, he took a deep breath. “Hayaati. She liked to call me Hayaati.”

He looked back at the screens in front of into, hidden cameras reflecting the quietness of the city before him.

“My life.”

\--

Duke barely had the window up all the way before Damian came crashing in. He leapt right into Duke’s arm, wrapping legs and arms tight around him like a vice. Duke stumbled back, one hand curling into the soft hair at the back of Damian’s head, the other trying hard to find something to steady himself on.

Gasping, Damian pulled back, pressing his forehead to Duke’s. “Habibi,” he said quietly. “Your pet name.”

His breaths falling out of his mouth in hard pants, Duke laughed. His free hand cupped the side of Damian’s face. “What?”

“Habibi,” Damian repeated, pressing one hand to Duke’s chest.

“What does it mean?” Duke asked. His thumb brushed over Damian’s lips.

Under his hand, Damian could feel Duke’s racing heartbeat. His own heart was hammering like an overworked blacksmith. And still he felt completely at peace, wonderfully calm, in ways the League and his father had never taught him to be. Duke’s eyes reflected nothing but his truest feelings. In the dead of the night, Duke had taken him in and treated him well. He never touched Damian’s mask that day.

He was the moon and stars in Damian’s world. In the year they’d known each other, he’d never felt quite as ease as he did with Duke, who took him for what he was, terrible past, suffering present and unseeable future. He didn’t require any change from Damian, just the truth, just _him_ , as he was in totality.

Even Colin and Maya had needed time to adjust.

And Damian didn’t want Duke in any other way either. He liked his warm hands and soft grin and _pleasant eyes_. He liked the way Duke fought back at him, snark against snark. The way he hoped, the way he spoke. His smarts, his silliness, his _ridiculous_ Spanish accent.

Damian pressed closer into Duke and closed his eyes. He needed nothing else in this moment. Just Duke and his heart.

Duke’s thumb slipped over his cheek. “Damian, what does it mean?”

Damian exhaled slowly, his eyes fluttering open slow. Duke was watching him, patient, curious.

Sweet.

“ _Beloved_.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope all of you enjoyed the story AND THE SAPPY ENDING I COULDN'T RESIST WRITING!
> 
> Also!! I'm willing to take critiques on Duke's character (and his character alone, please don't come at me saying I wrote Bruce wrong, I know how I write him differs from people's preferences and I don't need people yelling at me about it again) but please be specific! Please do not just say I wrote him wrong and leave it at that. That doesn't help and I am very lazy and will likely never read the comics unless bored or pressured by my DC bros so if you want to explain something, _BE SPECIFIC._
> 
> Anyway, thank you for reading!! I appreciate any and all support of my work, especially given THAT IS NOTHING BUT RAREPAIRS.
> 
> [Tumblr](http://happyk44.tumblr.com) || [Insta](http://instagram.com/hk44_art)


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